The Lost Boy
Part 1
A story of lost innocence, high-school and demons.
For anyone who ever wished for an unnatural friend.
The Lost Boy
By Pierogi
Jasmine belongs to Angelica
All characters are at least 18
Content only suitable for mature audiences.
Alan Hess sat, drumming the tips of his claws on the thigh of his blue jeans while his padded foot quietly tapped a beat on the tiled floor. Placing his free hand casually on his chest, the calico feline could feel his heart racing as his eyes darted around the room, wondering what it would be like to be anyone but himself. It's not that there was anything particularly wrong with Alan, but he didn't want to be Alan today. At least, during this part of the day.
Looking up to the clock in the classroom, Alan felt his cheek twitch before letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The minute hand was floating at that point right before 12, where you couldn't be blamed for thinking that time had stopped as that last moment before the bell seemed to drag on longer than it should have. It was coming. Any second now. Alan's heart was thumping so hard that he wondered if anyone could feel the vibrations through his chair and the floor. Was that possible? Probably not. Alan figured that it was just a surge of adrenaline, urging his body to leap from his seat and run home as fast as he could.
What is with this minute?!
Then it came. That harsh, earsplitting chime that no one ever really complained about because it meant it was the end. The end of a class, the end of the school day, the end of time before the animals were released out into the wild. Alan had already hooked his backpack around his shoulder, having had his bag ready on the back of his chair. And even his chair had been tilted to the door so he didn't have to scoot out. He was ready, and today he was going to make it.
"Whoa now!" Said professor Harkin, a middle-aged grey wolf wearing a tan and brown tweed suit. The black and white hairs on his chin seemed to tighten as he narrowed his gaze at Alan.
What now! Alan thought in a panic.
"Where do you think you're going?" Harkin continued, looking down at Alan in that haughty, I have power over you, kind of way.
Home! Please! Alan thought in a panic, tears almost coming to his eyes with frustration and embarrassment. He glanced around at the other students, some of which had been getting up as well, but were already settling back in, letting Alan take the heat of their collective desire to leave.
"The bell does not excuse you." Harkin said, ushering his hand back to Alan's desk.
Yes, it does! That's ALL it means! With his black, white and brown ears pinned back, Alan bit the inside of his lip as he walked back to his desk, slumping down, defeated. That was it. There was no way he was going to beat Kyle out of school now.
Harkin continued to address the class as others could already be heard pouring into the hallway, thundering out towards that sweet freedom of forgetting everything they had been taught that day and doing whatever it was that young animals do. Loiter, skate, swim, break lightbulbs behind abandoned buildings, smoke because it's cool and totally not a phase we're just that edgy. But not Alan. Alan's plans after school were more panicked, and he had missed his only window to avoid it.
"After you copy the assignment from the board you are free to leave. And I expect all reports in by Monday! No excuses. You have two whole days, and this should only take a few hours." Harkin finished by sitting behind his desk as the students began to head out the door.
Alan would have been among the first, but what was the point now? His only chance was to leave out an exit Kyle wasn't expecting. The lunchroom? Maybe the north entrance. Students never had a reason to leave out the main entrance. That was all administration. Maybe-
"Alan?" Harkin's voice was sharp and stuck Alan right in the ear like a needle.
_Aaaaaaaugh! What?!_Alan turned around, his anger and frustration beating out his normal, shy demeanor. "Yes?"
"Come here, please." Harkin said, crossing his legs and facing the young cat.
Alan walked over, his anger turning into worry as he felt the corners of his eyes get wet again. But he never cried. Not once did a tear ever roll down his cheek. Alan found himself beside Harkin's desk as the wolf starred him down.
"I would very much appreciate it if you would wait until the end of class before running to the door next time." He stated flatly.
"Yes, I'm sorry." Alan replied, looking down as he tugged on the straps of his backpack. Despite his eagerness to get home and avoid Kyle, Alan felt just a bit bad for Harkin. "I know that was rude, but I just-"
"Wanted to get out of here?" Harkin interrupted. "I know it's officially your weekend now, but understand I want you to walk away with a good education. Those who leave early and watch the clock don't get very far in this world."
I would have, if you hadn't stopped me. Alan nodded and gave a sheepish smile. He knew Harkin meant well, but at some point, older animals seemed to forget what happens after school isn't always as care-free as they make it out to be. "I'll do better, Mr. Harkin. I promise. I'm sorry."
Harkin smiled, satisfied with Alan's answer. "You're a good boy, Alan." He said turning back to his desk. "Don't shirk your responsibilities to your future." He looked back to Alan with a knowing look. "Trust me."
"I do. Thank you, sir." Alan replied casually.
"Alright." Harkin sighed. "Enjoy your weekend."
"You too, sir!" Alan replied, walking briskly out of the room.
As he approached the doors, the white whiskers on Alan's cheeks twitched as he looked through the windows of the main entrance, noticing that there didn't seem to be anyone outside. A small amount of tension uncoiled in his gut as felt a glimmer of hope shine throughout his body. His steps where lighter and a small smile even tugged at his face as he waved to the receptionist on his way out. The busty avian with hair and feathers that were way too overdone, returned the wave with a smile of her own.
"Enjoy your weekend!" She called after him.
"You too!" He called back, feeling the warmth of the sun wash over him as he walked through the doors.
Alan headed out over the freshly cut grass, making his way to the edge before crossing the street to the other side that was shaded by the woods. Alan enjoyed the heat, but the soft shade welcomed him as his stress was falling away bit by bit. Though he knew better than to claim victory just yet, Alan couldn't help but smile even wider as continued down the sidewalk. Alan looked back from the way he came, tracing his gaze down the side of the school and the road to make sure he wasn't being followed. Satisfied, he looked down the direction he was heading and to the other side of the school. It had been all clear, but before the knot in his gut could fully disappear, a figure stepped out from the side of the building.
It was a muscular, brown pangolin with black tips accenting his scales. Tony. One of Kyle's crew. Alan froze as the large boy stalked around the corner, peering in windows and looking down the side of the school as he was clearly looking for someone. Alan wondered if he could slide into the bushes before Tony suddenly snapped his head in Alan's direction. Alan let out a silent gasp as he met Tony's gaze, feeling a sickening mixture of hot and cold wash over his body.
"Bitch! I found him!" Tony yelled before softly jogging across the grass towards Alan, but Alan wasn't sticking around. Spinning on the pads of his feet, Alan turned and jumped into the woods. "What- hey! Don't run, boy!" Tony laughed.
Alan could barely hear Tony through all the rustling of the leaves and branches, but he could hear that laughter, followed shortly by more rustling behind him, and then more, and more. The laughter was getting deeper, as though more voices were joining in. Alan didn't dare look back. He didn't want to see their faces. He didn't want to miss a branch and trip, watching Kyle and his gang round on him before the kill.
"Gonna hang you from a tree, cat!" Someone yelled.
Alan wasn't sure if Kyle was with the group chasing him, until he heard a sudden change in the chase's tempo. A soft but distinguishable beat, like a drum, was catching up to him. Alan did his best to duck and weave through the trees, but no matter the distance or obstacles he put between them, the beat grew louder, and then, it him. A pair of strong, hair covered pads connected with Alan's back before pushing off of him. Alan was sent face first into the dirt before he was turned over by several rough pairs of hands.
There was Tony, the large pangolin, standing on Alan's right; wearing all black. Then there was Kevin; a grey wolf in blue jeans and a white shirt. He was just a bit smaller than Tony, but no less intimidating as he bared his teeth with a very sinister grin. Next to Kevin was Timmy, wearing a tattered green shirt and khaki shorts. Timmy was a very thin, very crazy looking weasel with crooked, pointed teeth. And at Alan's feet, was Kyle. A lanky, snow-white rabbit with long hanging ears that touched near his hips. He had decided to go with the heavy contrast of wearing all black as well, complete with cigarettes tucked in his sleeve and a silver ring in his left ear. Kyle was sitting on his haunches as he looked up at Alan's sweat soaked face, and it was all Alan could do to not curl up into a ball and accept what was coming next.
"Kyle, please-" Alan began.
"Shhhh." Kyle hissed, smiling with the rest of his buddies.
"I just-"
"None of that now." Kyle replied coolly as he stood up. "I'm going to assume you didn't know it was us, otherwise you wouldn't have run, right?"
Alan just looked up at Kyle, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
"Because, you know we had a play-date today, right? You do remember our play-date, don't you, Alan?" Kyle spoke as though they were really friends. As though they were just about to head over to the bowling alley or corner store.
"I remember." Alan said softly.
"Hey!" Kyle yelled, making Alan jump. "He remembers! Fuck yeah, dude! I knew you'd get there. Well, help him up, jeez." Kyle looked disappointingly to his friends as they hoisted Alan to his feet. Tony kept a firm grip on Alan's shoulders as Kyle came closer. "But you did run." He said, now giving Alan that same disappointed look. "And I think you hurt our feelings."
"Bu-but I didn't mean to-" Alan stammered before being interrupted again.
"Hey! Hey." Kyle laughed, placing a hand on Alan's chest. "I know you didn't mean to. We know that, right guys?" Kyle turned to look at his friends, all nodding in agreement before Kyle spun and socked Alan in the gut. Alan tried to double over, but between Tony's vise-like grip and Kyle's hand, Alan wasn't going anywhere. All he could do was cough and hang his head. "But you gotta learn." Kyle continued, lifting up Alan's head. "That when we have a date, you meet us where we tell you. Understand?"
"Y-yes." Alan replied, wincing as Kyle moved his hand away.
"Good! Well, shit. I feel better. But, uh. I think my boys here are still hurt." Kyle looked around as they all gave a brutish chuckle. "What say a punch for everyone, just to get all these icky feelings out of the air, yeah? By way of apology?"
"Apology accepted." Kevin growled, hitting Alan in the stomach again.
"Dude, really?" Kyle asked.
"What?"
"You gotta spread the love out." Timmy stated before jabbing Alan in the face.
Alan gasped, his eyes wide and vision blurred as he found himself looking at the sky shining through the canopy. His nose was numb, and he could hear a soft ring in his ears. He couldn't be sure, but it felt like his nose was broken. Alan let his head hang down again, silently wishing he could be somewhere else as Tony let him go. Alan fell to his knees at once, his body aching all over as he waited for the next hit.
"You know, I don't think he could take a hit from me." Tony said with an oddly sympathetic tone. "But you have hurt my feelings, Alan."
Alan felt the hard scales from the back of Tony's hand cross his right cheek before he found himself in the dirt again. Maybe if he played dead, they'd leave him alone? He was already halfway there; eyes pinched tight, beaten, bruised and a lack of will to stand up for himself. As if he could. They'd probably really kill him this time if he so much as threw a single punch.
"Well, now it's your turn, Alan." Kyle said.
Alan blinked, turning over very tentatively as he looked at the boys still surrounding him. Tony wasted no time and picked him up on his feet again, but giving him the dignity of standing on his own without the shoulder support.
"Come on, dude. It's your turn." Kyle continued. "I obviously didn't tell you in enough detail where we wanted you, so now it's your turn to hit us."
Alan felt his shoulders draw in as he felt the next hits coming. Kyle was messing with him. Alan knew that. Alan had never swung, and Kyle knew he wouldn't. "I don't want to." He finally said, looking at the ground.
"Bullshit." Timmy said. "I bet you wanna dig your claws into our guts."
"Ain't no way you don't want to unleash that anger on us." Tony scoffed.
"I'm not angry." Alan whispered.
"You know what. I believe that." Kyle said, walking up to Alan before bending down to so that he could look up at Alan's face. "You're way too scared. Too much abuse, I think."
"A troubling diagnosis, doctor. What do you recommend?" Kevin said with some concern, placing his hand on his chin.
"We need to scare the bitch out of him." Kyle replied with a wicked grin. "Oh, but how!?" He said, grabbing his long ears and hugging them to his face. "If his bitch symptoms continue for much longer, we may lose him!"
"Oh!" Timmy exclaimed. "The burned church!"
The others looked to Timmy with some reservation, while Alan looked pulled further into himself. "Say what now?" Tony asked.
"We lock him in the church! For the night!" Timmy replied. The others turned to Alan with devious smiles, all seeming to like the idea. "Or the weekend! Make him eat feral rats to survive. He'll be a fuckin man after that!"
"All in favor, say aye!" Kyle yelled.
"Aye!" They replied in unison.
Alan found himself between Tony and Kevin, Tony holding his wrists, while Kevin held him by the calves; like he was being carried away by cannibals before being eaten. Alan wondered what would have happened if he had swung at them, thinking that maybe, in the rarest of chances, they might respect him. But that thought was quickly pushed aside as he began planning his escape from this burned church. Places like that didn't bother him, but being trapped anywhere sounded like a bad time.
"I expect you'll thank us after all this." Kevin said. "You get a free ride, a chance to become a man without getting laid."
"I bet twenty bucks the rats eat HIM instead." Tony laughed.
"Twenty says he eats the rats, but is still a bitch afterwards." Timmy chimed in.
The boys laughed before Kyle spoke up. "Oh, shit. There it is."
"Alright princess. Rides over." Tony said, dropping Alan before Kevin knew what was happening.
Alan gasped as his back hit the ground. "Whoa, dude!" Kevin exclaimed as he fell back and landed in Alan's lap.
"Aw, you two look adorable." Kyle said, looking down at them both.
"Fuck off." Kevin sneered as he got up, but not before pushing Alan back down.
For a moment Alan felt his fear subside as he gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the big, dumb jock wolf, secretly wishing he could just stand up and lay them all out in the dirt. Make them feel what it was like.
"Up." Tony said, giving Alan a small kick on the side.
Alan did as he was told, patting himself off as he looked up to see where he'd be staying. All the boys looked on at the building, representing exactly what Timmy had called it. It was just that. A burned church. Not burned down, but scorched, as though a fire had started on one side before being put out. Aside from the black burn marks, boarded up windows and rude graffiti, it looked like a perfectly fine church. White wood, little steeple on top, stained windows, or, what was left of them. If he wasn't about to be locked in, Alan would have been just fine with exploring inside.
"Alright, your weekend home awaits!" Timmy said with a big grin before a deadpan expression took its place. "Get it." He demanded.
Alan looked around at the others, waiting for them to suddenly tell him they were just messing with him, but he knew better. Still. He had to hope for something. And as he began to walk up those creaking wooden steps, he hoped he could find a way out before nightfall.
"Sweet dreams, princess." Kyle said, leering at Alan as he pulled the double-doors closed.
Alan maintained eye-contact, watching the rabbit, who had made his high-school life agony, shut him in another small hell. The last sliver of pure sunlight crossed Alan's multi-colored face before the doors closed completely with a loud, ominous thud. Alan hissed through his teeth, waiting for them to begin blocking the door and leave. The sooner the better. He'd throw himself at the door as hard as he could and knock down whatever makeshift blockade they had made. Now that he was alone, he felt that anger surge up inside him. He wanted to yell, but first came the commotion outside. Laughter, followed by loud noises against the door. Alan sat on a dusty chair that had been half facing the door.
"That'll fall right over. Get those planks." It was Kevin.
"Dudes! Check it out!" He heard Timmy yell out.
"A pipe! Nice."
"No, through the handles. Yeah! Rest it on the rails."
"Perfect."
"Alan, sweetie?" Tony called inside. Alan just bit his lip and sneered. "We'll come pick you up tomorrow. Or maybe Sunday. Or never."
The others laughed.
"Take care!" Kevin called out.
A sudden bang on the door made Alan fall out of his chair as he then heard a small chittering sound through the double-doors. It sounded like the teething sounds that rats usually made.
"Sick." Kevin chuckled.
Alan felt his breaths kick at his chest as he sat there with his palms keeping him up, waiting to leap up and find a way out as soon as their laughter went away. It took a few minutes, but eventually all he could hear was the soft spring wind rustling the leaves outside. Alan shrugged off his backpack, letting it hit the ground with a clatter on the rickety wooden floor as he rolled his shoulders before looking up to the ceiling. And then he yelled. He yelled for several minutes until his throat felt as though someone had clawed at it.
"Fuck!" He wheezed, slumping down into a pew. "I. You fuck." He began, clinching his jaw and squeezing his fists as he struggled to articulate his anger. "Damn it." He whispered in defeat.
Alan pulled up his fingers to his face, running them underneath his eyes. Still no tears. At least not on his face. Dragging his hands across his eyes, he could feel something wet seep through the light hair on his fingers. Looking at the wet, matted fur, Alan let out a scoff, wondering if it was his stubborn will to never let anyone see him cry, or his body was just that good at keeping his fear and sadness from showing. But they knew. He didn't know why he hid it from anyone. They obviously knew he was weak, otherwise, why would they pick on him? Alan sat for a moment, seemingly content with this room that he could yell and reflect in, but enough was enough. Sniffing and running his hand under his nose, he stood to face the door, but not before he noticed the blood on the back of his hand.
He'd been bleeding. He looked down at his shirt to see some small blood splatters. Problem for later, he decided before facing the door. At first, he gave it a solid kick. Nothing. Then he tried pulling the handle, but of course it wasn't as simple as that. Then he flung himself into the doors. He only did that once. The doors were so heavy on their own; he wouldn't be breaking through. Giving up on the door, Alan looked around at the windows, thinking maybe enough glass was left on one that the boards didn't cover a space big enough for him to get through, but something else caught his attention before the windows did.
He hadn't really looked at the inside of the church when he had been locked in, but now that his blinding anger had subsided, he could really get a good look around. The first thing he saw was the giant, upside-down cross.
"That's, creepy." He said with a nervous smile. He wasn't religious by any means, but he still clung to a bit of superstition; never going out of his way to mess with anything that might be considered taboo.
Continuing his investigation, Alan noticed that the whole front and right side were seemingly untouched by burn marks, but the left side and back end near the cross were black, and it all looked as though it were coming from a doorway leading to the back. The calico's ears perked up as he was struck with an idea. Jogging over to the door, he wondered if perhaps the wood was so weak that he could kick it out, but as he reached the door, he stopped. Things suddenly felt very out of place, as the room was oddly cooler on the burned side.
Looking back, he chalked it up to just being nervous, or his senses messing with him. Of course a burned black corner of an abandoned church would feel weird compared to the unburned side. He mentally shrugged the thought away as he opened the door, but felt silly as the feeling swam right back into his chest.
The room was more of a closet, and only just bigger than the doorway, but it wasn't empty. On the floor was a closed hatch with a heavy iron ring in it, and across the floor, leading away from the hatch, were more burn marks. This would have been a normal sight to see, but what had Alan hesitate in the doorway, what had made that cold water feeling swim into his gut, was that the burn marks were only in front of the hatch; as though someone with a blowtorch had come out of the floor and started burning everything in front of them.
It was a little creepy, sure, and the upside-down cross in the front didn't help ease that feeling, but Alan chalked it up once again as nothing to be worried about. "This is totally how horror movies start." He said to no one.
Alan quickly looked up to see some light shining through the gaps in the burned wall next to the door he had come through, and wasted no time bracing against the opposite side of it so that he could start kicking. With one foot planted on the ground, he raised his other, ready to kick as hard as he could. With one deep breath he lashed out, ready to feel the warmth of the sun on his leg as it erupted through the brittle wood, but as his foot connected with the wall, he felt himself suddenly forced through the wall he had been bracing against.
Alan sat in the hole he had just made, coughing as the ash and dust fell around him. No one was around, but he couldn't help but feel sheepish. Dusting himself off as he stood, he then lashed out at the wall he had meant to kick. Not expecting to make any progress, he couldn't help but smile as the boards cracked. With a newly found vigor he began to kick more and more, until finally he had made a hole big enough for himself.
"Well. That went way better than I thought." He said feeling rather pleased with himself. "I can't wait to get out of here and plan for all my future years in therapy." He joked to himself. He liked talking to himself when no one was around. Laughter made the sad go away.
Alan was halfway through the hole when he realized he had forgotten his backpack. Walking briskly across the room, he quickly snatched the bag and headed back to the hole, but before he decided to go through, the hatch caught his attention again. It was spooky, yeah, but he would beat himself up for not at least taking a peek inside. Dusting off the iron ring, Alan hooked a finer through and gave the hatch a firm tug, pulling it open and letting it fall to the floor.
The stairway leading down was engulfed in shadows, but it was nothing some modern technology couldn't fix. Alan pulled out his phone and turned on his flashlight, peering down the stairway and into a small room. He could just barely make out some red scratches on the wall in the burned wood, and that was enough to push him further.
"In for a penny." He whispered, before heading down. "Be brave, Alan. I will, Alan, thank you."
The feeling of disappointment around Alan was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Twitching his nose, the boy looked from wall to wall, only to find an empty room with more graffiti. 'Fuck you! Cassie sucks! Yeah, my dick! Live and love. Hot Rod Tod!' Among several others graced the wall.
"Classy." He laughed, feeling he had taken in enough, but as he turned, a subtle, yet prominent bit of artwork caught his attention.
In the center of the wall, directly across from him, was a pentagram etched into the wood. Not the typical star and circle, but a proper looking pentagram with tiny symbols and other, smaller markings carved into the center star.
"Cool stuff." Alan said, feeling that haunting air drift back across his shoulders. He then squinted as he then noticed a small message written in red above the circle.
Make a wish.
He regarded the words with some interest before scoffing. "Yeah right. I wish that actually meant something."
Turning on his heel, the hatch leading out slammed shut, causing Alan to jump back and cower down with his tail wrapping around his feet. "Uh, h-hello?" He stammered.
Alan rushed across the room, muttering every swear word he knew as he pushed his shoulder up into the hatch. It wasn't moving. Kyle. They must have been waiting for him.
"Let me out!" Alan cried, but no one responded. "Please! Hello?"
Alan continued to shove, but before he could shout again, a soft hissing made him stand deathly still. He had a light, sure, but trapped in that room, locked in with the shadows surrounding him, he could only imagine what would face him if he were to show his light on it. Let it kill me, he thought. I don't want to see it. But the hissing stopped, and then started again. It continued to pause and start up, until finally Alan turned to face whatever it was making that noise. At first, he noticed nothing unusual. Maybe a snake? Then he saw it. It was the ash. The wind, or something was softly blowing it in circles around on the floor.
"Christ." He sighed, falling back on the steps. He almost smiled again before noticing that the pentagram was glowing.
Alan cocked his head to the side, waving his flashlight over the carved symbol. When his light was on it, it looked normal, but when in the shadows, it shined as though the light had never left.
"Surely there's a logical explanation-" Alan began to rationalize to himself with a new found fear in his expression, but was only left with his fear as the ash began to turn into embers.
Alan tried to tuck himself up into the stairs as the ash and embers began to swirl more fiercely, but his foot must have caught the step at an odd angle, because Alan soon found himself slipping down the stairway; his rear and the back of his head smacking against a few of the steps before he was back at the bottom.
Alan drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up to see something he couldn't explain away. The pentagram was glowing red, and the embers and ash were pulling themselves onto a figure that had not been in the room a moment ago. It was tall. Taller than him, and had horns. Alan was frozen where he sat, watching the bizarre light show dance with the shadows around the figure bathed in black. And as soon as it had started, it was over. The ash fell and the embers faded out, leaving Alan's flashlight as the only light source in the room.
Alan trembled as he looked at where the light was pointing, seeing a pair of cloven hooves and black cloth surrounding a pair of hairy, dark-grey legs. The boy swallowed as one of the hooves took a step. This isn't real. The other hoof took a step forward. I have a concussion, and I'm bleeding at the bottom of these stairs. Another step followed another until finally the pair of legs were not but a foot in front of him.
Alan slowly began to raise the shaky light as he took the figure in, bit by bit. It was wearing a black dress that looked as though it had been ripped apart, and whatever it was had a very feminine figure filling out the tattered garb. Thick hips and thighs, narrow waist, an almost flat breast. Alan hesitated the light just before the neck, not wanting to see what was in front of him, and still trying to figure out what IT was.
"It's rude to stare at a woman's body without at least saying hello." Her voice was hollow, like it was coming out of a tunnel, yet sharp like a razor. And her tone was mature; wise, but playful; like someone who could tease you, but make you laugh at the same time.
Before Alan could lift his phone, the woman leaned forward and into the light with her hands on her hips. It was a goat. Well, some breed of goat, anyway. Alan couldn't tell in that moment as his eyes flashed from her brilliant red hair that flowed around her shoulders like a mane of fire, to her horns that almost touched the sides of her neck as they curled around the back of her head. Her fuchsia colored eyes bore down on Alan as she dropped to one knee, leaning further into him the further he tried to back away, until finally he was lying down on the stairs again with the goat's face only a few inches from his bloody nose.
"You lost, boy?" The woman hissed through her fangs with a pointed grin.